


Sit in the Sun and Smile

by dizzy



Series: Trip and Stumble [6]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter break in Michigan. Chris has a stereotypical college experience, and Darren has a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit in the Sun and Smile

The car is loaded up with alcohol, snacks, alcohol, blankets and pillows, and more alcohol. 

“Did you actually leave anything in the store?” Chris asks, squinting at the cooler full of different bottles clinking together dangerously.

“We have needs,” Joe says. He claps a big hand on Chris’s shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll soon come to understand.”

Darren bounds out of the front door. The sheer level of energy radiating from him should by all rights be obnoxious, since it’s not even seven am, but somehow instead of irritating it’s just rubbing off on Chris.

“Don’t forget your jacket,” Chris calls out. Darren spins on the spot and heads back into the house, returning a minute later as he shrugs on a blue and gray jacket.

“Thanks, babe.” Darren kisses his cheek and then smacks his ass. “Chris calls shotgun!”

Darren, by virtue of being the most awake, has been elected to drive. Nick, Brian, Meredith, and Jaime are going in Nick’s car while everyone else piles into Dylan’s SUV. 

“Hey, no fair, he didn’t even call it. You called it for him. That’s now allowed!” Lauren argues. 

“Sure it is,” Darren answers back cheerfully. “Besides, you forfeited shotgun when you called iPod privileges.”

“I don’t remember shotgun status entering into the negotiations on iPod control.” Lauren eyes him suspiciously. 

“It’s in the fine print!” Darren tries to convince her. 

“I thought driver always got to pick anyway?” Chris says. 

“Not Darren,” Joey asserts. “It’s a... thing.” 

Chris gives Darren a suspicious look. “Do I get to know what kind of thing?” 

“Nope,” Darren says. He grabs Lauren when she tries to scoot around to the passenger side, blocking her. “Next time read the fine print.” 

*

They’re an hour into the two and a half hour drive, talking in quiet voices to try and not disturb the sleeping passengers. 

“So what exactly are we doing this week?” Chris asks. 

He doesn’t want to come out and say that he’s never gone on any trips away with friends before. There have been a few family vacations, or trips to various hospitals that his parents tried to inject a little fun into, but even those were few and far between. There were always other things to be worried about in his household growing up. The only escape from it he got most of the time took place on a stage. 

“Drink,” Darren says right away. 

Chris rolls his eyes. “Besides that.” 

“Our cabin is right on a lake, so we’ll probably do some ice skating... maybe hit a couple of the bars in town if we feel like it, but it’s kind of more fun to just enjoy the cabin. No one has to skip the drinking that way,” Darren continues. “And, I don’t know, those fuckers can entertain themselves, I just want to spend some time alone with you.”

Chris smiles down at his lap. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

“A bedroom all to ourselves...” Darren says it like it’s the most blissful thing ever. His voice drops low. “God, I want to do so many things to you.” 

“Uh, not actually asleep back here,” Lauren says. 

“Like it doesn’t make your panties wet thinking about me and Chris together,” Darren shoots back. 

“Like it doesn’t make your dick hard to think about my panties being wet. Come on, Darren, your boyfriend is right there. You should be ashamed of your verbal foreplay.” 

Darren just groans. Lauren is one of the few who has no trouble holding her own against Darren, seemingly immune to his freakish charm and charisma. 

Chris can’t quite contain his laughter over the exchange, and after a few more seconds he doesn’t even try to. 

*

The cabin is bigger than Chris had expected, three bedrooms and a loft with extra beds and enough space for the ten of them to all co-exist without feeling crammed into the same space. 

He’s not entirely sure how it happens, but during the mad dash to claim sleeping arrangements. Chris and Darren are ushered into the nicest of the master bedrooms. 

“They totally think we’re cute,” Darren brags, elbowing Chris. 

“Or maybe it’s just the room farthest away from the main area, so they don’t have to listen to us having sex. One of us is sort of loud, I’ve heard.” Chris says it innocently, dropping his bag onto the floor and then crawling onto the bed. It’s a nice bed. It’s a _big_ bed. He’s a little giddy thinking of all the stuff they can do in this nice, big bed. 

“Please, like we’ll be the only ones getting laid this weekend.” Darren joins him, stretching out until his back pops and then flopping down bonelessly. 

“Oh yeah?” Chris asks curiously. He’s definitely heard all the rumors and implications but he’s sort of oblivious when it comes to knowing who is actually hooking up with who. He almost wishes they’d been able to talk Matt into coming, just so he had someone he wasn’t embarrassed to ask for explanations with. 

Darren rolls onto his side and props his chin against his palm. “So did you figure out what you’re gonna be doing over the summer yet?” 

Chris has been bouncing ideas off of Darren and getting input from him for the past week. They’re only just going into March, but he can’t leave the planning until the last minute. 

“Yeah, I’m going to do the second summer semester. Mom said Hannah would be heartbroken if I didn’t go home at all, so I’ll go to Clovis for a couple of weeks. But I want the extra credits so I can try to graduate early. I need to turn in my paperwork to get a new dorm unit for the part of the summer that I’m here, but I heard it’s easier to get a single in summer, and maybe if I grab one now they’ll let me keep it.” 

He’s not really sure why graduating early has become a goal of his, except that he’s always prided himself on being above the curve when it comes to school. He likes the rush of motivation that comes with performing better, doing more, exceeding expectations. 

Darren is sort of staring at him with an unreadable expression, but when Chris asks what’s up he just shrugs it off and gets to his feet. “Come on, let’s go exploring.” 

*

The first day is sandwiches and beer for lunch, romping in the snow like absolute children, and so much laughter that Chris almost hurts from it. 

The cabin is amazing, the scenery is gorgeous, and Darren is eager to warm his fingers or any other body parts that might conceivably need some friction to keep the blood flow going, or so he claims loudly and frequently. 

Chris is pretty sure Darren is two seconds away from actually asking Chris if his dick has frostbite when Chris kisses him just to shut him up. He’s still not entirely thrilled, not entirely _comfortable_ , with the idea of PDA in actual public situations, but he’s grown immensely comfortable with the level of affection Darren throws at him in the company of his - their - friends. 

No one says anything about it when they disappear early after dinner, both of them too impatient and eager and neither of them finding any good reason why they shouldn’t just slip off together. They kiss and roll around on the bed, taking their time undressing each other in starts and stops, luxuriating in time and a door that locks. 

Chris kneels on the floor and gives Darren a blowjob, exploring more thoroughly and filthily than he ever has before, bringing Darren to a level of panting wreck that he hasn’t quite managed to achieve before. He wants Darren to come but Darren says no, and lets Chris know in concise words exactly what he’d prefer instead. They fuck with Darren on all fours, Chris digging fingers into his hips as he tries to capitalize on some of that newfound stamina that Darren keeps playfully praising him for. 

It’s worth it when Darren shudders and slams his hand into the mattress and tells Chris he’s close. 

They stop, because neither of them want it to be over yet, and Darren turns onto his back. 

“Like this,” he says, and guides Chris to hold his legs. It’s a new angle, different and maybe not quite as deep as before, but he can see Darren like this and that makes it maybe his second favorite position they’ve done this in yet, after Darren riding him. 

This time when they get close, neither of them wants to stop. For the first time it’s Darren hitting that ledge before Chris, and Chris falls a little bit in love with the shocked, pleasure flooded look on Darren’s face as he spills over his stomach with Chris buried hard and deep inside of him. 

*

Alcohol is wonderful.

Except maybe when halfway through the week Darren and Joe make a run into town for more firewood and food, and then everyone that’s left decides that it’s a shame that Chris hasn’t tried like, _every different kind of alcohol ever_ and proceed to educate him. 

With shots. 

Two hours after Darren’s departure, Chris is curled up on the bathroom floor. He can distantly hear things: voices, laughter, people having fun. Darren’s voice cuts through it all and Chris tries to sit up because Darren is back, he wants to see Darren - but even trying to move makes him feel a little bit like dying so he drops back down and rolls his forehead against the cool wood floor. 

His eyes close and he probably only sleeps for a minute or two but when he wakes back up he can hear Darren yelling. 

That makes him sad. Is Darren mad at them because Chris drank too much and got sick? They made sure he was in the bathroom first, he didn’t make a mess - he doesn’t think. Maybe he should check. This isn’t his house, after all. It’s not even Darren’s apartment. If Chris makes a mess in some one else's cabin they’ll probably be _really_ mad. His chest goes tight at the thought. 

He struggles to sit up up again and succeeds this time, feeling wobbly and sweaty and dizzy and a little bit like he’s going to puke again. It’s just suddenly very important to him that he not make a mess, because he doesn’t want Darren to yell at him. He’s pretty sure if that happens he will cry, and that’s sort of humiliating. He gets to his feet and grabs the counter with both hands, clamping his mouth tight so he won’t retch at the violent churning in his stomach that being upright brings about. 

Maybe back on the floor is a better idea. 

“Hey, honey, slow down,” Lauren says, grabbing him when Chris hadn’t even realized he was going to fall. She calls out in a louder voice, “Darren? Come take over, okay? And don’t - put that down, stop that, you know he’s almost as drunk as Chris, hurting him won’t solve anything.”

Darren shows up in the doorway. He’s frowning, and Chris cowers back. “You okay there?”

Chris grabs a towel - it’s damp, maybe the one he wiped his mouth on earlier? - and wipes feebly at the counter. He’s not sure how he’d have made a mess there, but it can’t hurt, can it? “Feel funny.”

Darren watches him for a few seconds then takes the cloth from him. “Yeah, I bet you do, baby. How long has he been drinking?”

“Um. Since just after you guys left. We started this trivia game where Brian would google questions about British trivia and any time Chris got one wrong, he had to do a new shot. You would seriously be impressed at how long it took to get him that drunk.” Lauren’s little giggle is a good clue to her own state of inebriation. “He’s _smart_ , Dar.”

“Not actually that surprised.” Darren looks over at Chris with a quirking half smile. “Go on, I got him from here.”

“Okie doke.” Lauren gives Chris’s arm a little squeeze and then slips out of the bathroom.

Chris almost falls over without her to lean on. Darren swoops forward and grabs him. “Jesus fuck am I gonna kill Joey for letting you drink so much.”

Darren isn’t yelling but that’s almost worse. Chris feels his eyes start to water. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, dropping back to the ground and crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, no, come on, I didn’t mean it like that.” Darren settles on the floor beside Chris, nudging the door shut completely with his foot to give them more room. “Trust me, you do not even want to know how many times I’ve been just like, totally shitfaced. Did you at least have fun?”

Chris gives Darren a sulky glare. “‘s not fair. He was lying. She was the Queen, but they made me drink anyway. Maybe just a queen for nine days but _still_! And there _is_ such a thing as groom of the stool, so he... he was wrong. He _cheated_.”

Chris carefully enunciates his words, so Darren will take him more seriously. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t sound nearly as drunk as he actually is. He’s not sure it’s humanly possible to sound as drunk as he actually is. 

“Okay, I didn’t understand any of that, so how about I ask you that again tomorrow. After the hangover tomorrow.” Darren slides an arm around Chris’s shoulder and tugs him in. “I am a little bit sorry I missed it, though. The roads were a bitch out, and we had to go to two different stores to get the chips Joe wanted.” 

“I like chips,” Chris offers up. 

Darren laughs. “I know you do.”

Chris rests his head on Darren’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure he should be offended, but he’s still a little fixated on Darren yelling. It just isn’t often that he sees that look on Darren’s face, the one he’d had when he walked into the bathroom and saw Chris. “Mad at me?”

“What? No. No, no, no. Just freaked me out, okay? I come in and everyone looks at me like they just killed a puppy and hid it in my bed. I didn’t know what was going on, just that you were in here sick-” Darren kisses the side of Chris’s head. “Sorry. I’m not mad. You will be at them tomorrow, though, I bet.”

“Tomorrow,” Chris agrees. Right now he doesn’t have the energy to be much of anything except suddenly exhausted.

“You want to go get in bed, or do you think you’ve got some Linda Blair left in you?” Darren asks.

Chris tries to make the world stop spinning long enough to take stock of himself. Yeah, still a little green. “Stay,” he mutters.

Darren rubs a hand over his back. “As long as you need.”

As long as he needs happens to be about ten minutes, before he’s surging to his feet and ridding himself of the last of the liquor ready to voluntarily leave his body with a few pitiful retches. 

Darren keeps rubbing his back through it, murmuring encouragement. “You want a shower? Probably feel better in the morning if you get one. You’re all sweaty and you kind of smell gross.”

“Stay with me?” Chris pouts. He gets his arms around Darren and clings just a little more than he’d let himself normally.

Darren hugs back. “Sure thing. You just sit tight - maybe brush your teeth, because, ew - and I’ll grab us some clothes.”

The door opens and Chris can tell the party is still going on without him, without them. When Darren comes back he locks the bathroom door and starts the water, letting Chris sit on the closed toilet seat with his eyes shut while he gets everything ready. The gentle way Darren undresses him makes Chris smile even though with every passing minute he feels less drunk and more like he actually might be dying. He attempts to let Darren know that he’s pretty sure he has contracted some sort of disease and Darren just nods throughout it, far more amused than Chris realizes. 

“In,” he says, when the temperature is right. Chris just blinks muzzily at him until Darren grabs him by the arms and guides him under the spray.

The water in the shower sounds like bullets but the heat and pressure on his skin is nice, and the way Darren grabs the soap and cleans him - he’s not even self-conscious, like he’d always figured he’d be if they did this. He just sinks back into Darren and lets himself be cared for.

“You owe me,” Darren says, smiling fondly as he dries Chris off afterward. “And I’m so gonna cash in. We’re talking, epic blowjobs.”

“Mhm.” Chris sighs out in agreement, but a minute later won’t even really remember what he’s agreeing to.

Hands on Chris’s shoulders, Darren walks him out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Chris grumbles protests over the volume of the music but the sound is cut when the bedroom door shuts behind them. Chris crawls eagerly into bed, under the covers, and then reaches for Darren.

“Right back,” Darren whispers, kissing his nose in a way that tickles a little and makes Chris smile.

The noise level grows as the door opens. He hears Darren talking to someone - not sure who, maybe Lauren? Lauren, sweet, nice Lauren, who told him it was going to be okay when Chris really thought he might be dying during the worst of it. He should really do something nice for Lauren to make it up to her. Not blowjobs, though. That’s just for Darren. Maybe flowers. Or candy. Or food. Lauren likes food. Darren likes blowjobs, and Lauren likes food. Chris giggles into the pillow, and then realizes yeah, okay, maybe he is still a little drunk after all.

“Come back,” he says out loud, then he realizes Darren probably can’t actually hear him. If he texts Darren, Darren might get that, but he’s not sure where his phone is... fuck. Where is his phone? He sits up in the dark and pats his hand around on the bed before realizing that it was in the pocket of his jeans, and he’s not even wearing them anymore, he’s wearing Darren’s pants - those nice soft ones he sleeps in when he has to wear something to bed, or the heater is going out again in the apartment. Chris likes these pants. 

The door opens and Darren sees him sitting up. “Need something? You’re not sick again, are you?”

“I’m in your pants,” Chris says. “Wait - I. No. Um. Where are my pants? Phone...”

“I grabbed it.” Darren holds it up. “What did you need it for?”

“...text you.” Even as he says it, Chris realizes it makes no sense.

He has the distinct impression now that he is being laughed at by his boyfriend. He flops back down on the bed, then groans at the way that makes his head throb. “Ow.”

“Got you some more goodies, too,” Darren says, turning the lamp by the bed on instead of the overhead light. “Water, water, more water, and some Advil.”

“Diet Coke?” Chris says hopefully.

“Not sure if that’s the best idea.” Darren scrunches his face up. “You can have all the Diet Coke you want in the morning, okay?”

Chris frowns, but takes the water and the medicine. He downs half the bottle before handing it back to Darren and then getting back under the covers. “Stay?”

Darren looks over at the door. “Well, I was gonna...” He looks down at Chris and then changes his mind. “Yeah, sure.”

He strips off his shirt and pants and leaves them on the floor without much consideration for neatness. “You’re on my side of the bed,” he complains, but he doesn’t make Chris move.

Chris grins very cutely, dimples showing. “We have sides.”

“That we do,” Darren says. He leans forward, testing to make sure Chris remembered to brush his teeth, then presses a soft kiss to his mouth. “You can have my side for tonight.”

“Mmm, thanks,” Chris mumbles, and then snuggles in closer so he’s practically on top of Darren. “You’re so warm. Smell s’good. I like being in bed with you. Wanna be in bed with you every night.”

“Yeah? That doesn’t sound so bad to me, either.” Darren wraps his arms around Chris. That’s even better. Chris still feels sick and buzzy and headachey but Darren’s arms make it better. “I’m glad my choice in body wash has earned your approval. You smell like me now too, you know.”

“Someone asked me earlier if you are a screamer.” Chris giggles suddenly, remembering. “Told them you make pretty sounds.”

“Yours are prettier.” Darren’s voice is very tolerant, slightly patronizing but Chris doesn’t pick up on it. “What else did they ask you?”

“Mmm... Meredith. She asked how... if you were... you know. How big it is.” Chris reaches down to pat at Darren’s cock through his shorts. “Told her I wasn’t gonna say. ‘s a secret.”

“No, the answer to that is: Darren has a monster cock. Remember that for next time. Like, twelve inches.”

Chris still manages a fairly cutting look at that. “Nuh uh.”

“Uh huh,” Darren playfully argues.

“That would hurt.” Chris shifts a little, rubbing his cheek back and forth over the warm skin of Darren’s chest. “I don’t think I’d let you fuck me if you had a twelve inch cock.”

“Whoa now,” Darren says, voice going faint. “Is that something we’re putting on the table?”

Chris lifts his head to squint at Darren. “You can’t fuck me on the table. Everyone would get mad.”

Darren laughs loudly. “Okay, a) like that would stop me, and 2) we’ll revisit that later, too. But... this mean you’ve been thinking about it?”

His hand moves under Chris’s shirt, down to where his borrowed pajama pants start. Chris left his underwear with the rest of his clothes, which Darren will discover momentarily.

“Mhm.” Chris smiles at the low groan he hears when Darren’s fingers stroke over the bare skin of his ass. Chris bends his knee up so that it’s resting over Darren’s thigh, rocking into the solid muscle. He’s only half hard and he doesn’t really have the energy to work toward anything more, but the pressure combined with Darren’s suddenly wandering fingers is the most pleasant thing Chris has felt in hours. A dry fingertip presses against the crack of his ass and then in more firmly, softly rubbing against his hole.

“Oh, God, I want you so bad,” Darren mumbles, sighing in frustration and pulling his hand back away. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Nooooo,” Chris whines, smiling. “No dying. Gotta keep touching me.”

Darren growls playfully, arm squeezing around Chris in a burst of pressure. “Sober up and I’ll touch you all you want, anywhere you want.”

“Good.” Chris kisses Darren’s chest again and then lets the heat and warmth and gentle rhythmic pounding of Darren’s heart lull him to sleep.

*

The next morning is quiet, lots of limping around nursing headaches and sipping coffee. Chris takes comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only person that drunk last night - probably not even the person most drunk, but he’s still never experienced this particular level of hangover so it hits him hardest. 

Around lunch time, Chris loses Darren to a snowball fight outside. He’s not exactly feeling up to running and prancing so he stays in by the fireplace with Lauren, who has been exceedingly maternal to him all morning. He soaks it in, resting his head in her lap. He’s not really used to being physical with anyone. His limited experience is mostly with Darren, but this is undeniably nice. 

They spend over an hour in lazy conversation while she plays with his hair, talking about childhoods and weather and school and sort of nothing really at all, and it’s probably the least painful way to spend an admittedly not entirely comfortable morning. 

“Are you trying to lure my man away with the temptation of your lady cuddles, Lopez?” Darren asks, tugging the snow-covered beanie off of his head. 

Chris turns onto his back and stretches. “She does give good cuddle. You might have reason to worry, Darren.” 

“Naw, not worried. You’d have to see her naked.” Darren kicks off his shoes and then drops down onto the sofa, opening his arms up and wiggling his fingers. “C’mere. Warm me up.” 

“Sorry, he’s right, that would be a dealbreaker.” Chris gives Lauren an apologetic look.  
“It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t like your girlparts.” 

“He likes my parts,” Darren says smugly. 

“I’m heartbroken, Colfer. I thought we had something real here.” Lauren sighs dramatically, then slips out from under him. Chris’s head hits the cushion where she’d been sitting and he wiggles in to get a little more comfortable in the new position. 

“Chriiiiis,” Darren whines, arms still outstretched. 

“No!” Chris says. “You’ll just make me cold. Go change clothes first. I can see the snow melting on your sleeves. Cold and wet.” 

“Fine.” Darren pushes back up off of the couch and disappears from Chris’s line of vision, returning a few minutes later dressed in pants that Chris knows he wears to dance class and a hoodie. “Snuggle now?” 

“Mhm.” Chris nods happily and relocates himself into Darren’s arms. Even the short burst of movement makes his head pound a little. “Oh, God, never let me drink again.” 

Darren laughs, a huff of breath against Chris’s forehead. “It’s a rite of passage.” 

“Well, next time, I shall not pass.” Chris says solemnly. He and Darren are both silent for about five seconds before they snicker together. “Where is everyone else?”

“Snowman contest,” Darren says. “You look twelve right now, you know that?” 

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles. He hasn’t changed out of pajamas or touched his hair. 

“I’m just sayin’, that is impressive bedhead. Kinda hot.” Darren starts to smooth down Chris’s hair. Chris looks up at him intending on glaring but instead he just sort of gets caught up in the warm swirly feeling in his chest when he stares a little too closely at the stubble on Darren’s face and the color of his eyes. He smiles and kisses a spot that feels prickly against his lips in the nicest of ways. 

“Why’d you come inside if everyone else is still out there?” Chris asks, readjusting a little to get closer and then letting his head rest against Darren’s shoulder comfortably. 

“I want to check on you. Besides, it’s nice in here. This is nice.” Darren rests his cheek against the top of Chris’s head. “It’s my turn tonight, you know.” 

“Your turn for what?” Darren smells good, a little bit like sharp sweat and deodorant. Chris slips a hand under the sweatshirt to warm his fingers even more. 

“To get wasted, duh. You can take it easy tonight and just sit back and enjoy watching me make a fantastic idiot of myself.” 

“I can do that even when you don’t drink,” Chris points out. 

“Ouch.” Darren kisses the top of Chris’s head. 

Chris yawns and lets his eyes shut. “But I’m definitely sticking with non-alcoholic beverages tonight. And maybe for the rest of the week.”

“Or...” Darren pokes out his bottom lip and rubs a finger across it. “Hey, I’ve got a plan B for you.”

“Plan B?” Chris waits, amused. He’s pretty sure Darren is trying to guide the conversation somewhere, and he doesn’t mind waiting to see where. 

It does take a minute. 

“Your whole thing about trying to get a dorm for the summer.” Darren bites his bottom lip, and then says, “Matt’s moving out. He told us last week. He’s gonna get a place with his girlfriend, and Nick is thinking of moving in with them.” 

Chris isn’t entirely shocked. He knows Matt isn’t overly fond of the party atmosphere at their place, and Nick tends to stick close to his brother. “So?” 

“So Brian already called dibs on one of the rooms, but we can wait until the end of the summer to get a fourth. It’ll be way cheaper than paying room and board for the summer, and we can just wait until you move out to put up an ad.” It sort of has a ring of recitation to it, like Darren’s been going over this in his mind. 

Chris is floored. He has no idea what to say. 

They’ve only been dating three months. 

But by the time he moved in, it would be closer to six... 

Can he even live with someone like that? Would he be any good at it? Would Darren get sick of him, would _he_ get sick of _Darren_?”

“Hey,” Darren rolls a little closer, clearly reading the sudden anxiety on Chris’s face. “And if it isn’t working out at all, you can go back to a dorm for the fall semester. Easy out, no problem. Doesn’t have to be a thing, okay? You can even take Matt’s room and me and Joey can keep sharing, if...” 

“If?” Chris prompts. 

Darren shrugs, face falling a little. “If you want.” 

“And if I don’t mind sharing?” Chris turns again so he can Darren in the eye. “What about then?”

The hint of dismay disappears in an instant. Darren’s fingers brush his bangs back from his face. “Then you’ll stay with me, and we ditch the bunk beds.” 

* 

Darren, true to his word, drinks without concern that night. 

It’s a little more mellow than the night before - no one is up for an intensive round two. Chris nurses a hot toddy forced upon him and settles in a comfortable spot by the fire while Darren plays for them, taking requests and laughing and occasionally getting a little silly as the night progress. 

He coaxes Chris into a song with him, because no one else believes Darren when Darren says that he and Chris sound amazing together. He wants to do Baby, It’s Cold Outside but Chris staunchly refuses and offers Here Comes the Sun as a consolation prize that Darren readily accepts.

Chris is embarrassed by the enthusiastic reaction, especially when Joe says that there’s no way he’s getting out of karaoke again. Apparently they’d all just assumed he couldn’t sing - sort of a quiet shame amongst this group, something just slightly past the boundary of mockable offense. Now that they know he can, he’s not off the hook anymore. 

By the time they’re all tired, it’s not a race to bed but a sort of meandering. They curl up under the covers and kiss long and slow and sweetly until they’re both asleep. 

*

Ice skating, like getting plastered, is an experience Chris would be perfectly fine never repeating. 

It isn’t that it’s not fun - he’s just not good at it. It’s embarrassing to have everyone whizzing around him while he’s hobbling forward in measurements of inches, clinging desperately to Darren’s hand and somehow still managing to bust his ass on the unforgiving ice multiple times. 

“You just need practice,” Jaime says, and she kindly leads him around a few times while Darren gets to show off frankly unfair agility. 

“How is he so good at that? He’s from California too, that’s not fair!” Chris complains. 

“You should have seen him last year.” Jaime laughs. “Not only did he fall, but he practically did a split and he ripped his pants.” 

Chris gapes. “I don’t even believe you.” 

“I’ll email you the pictures,” she says. 

He laughs and lets go of her hand to try it again, this time managing almost a full loop before he starts to wobble. Darren skates in close and grabs him around the waist, spinning them both for a moment that is sheer terror to Chris. “Hey, I gotcha,” Darren promises. As they come to a gradual stop his arms relax around Chris. “You were doing pretty good, though.” 

“Better than some beginners,” Chris says, sounding smug. “Split your pants, I’m told?” 

“Aw, fuck, who-” Darren looks around like the guilty party will be waving a billboard with a confession on it or something. “Who was it?” 

“Not telling. But I’m told there are pictures.” 

“I hate you all!” Darren shouts. Most of them reply in kind, though none of them (except Jaime) have any idea what he’s talking about. 

Chris stops long before anyone else, limping his aching feet and bruised ass over to the bank of the river and settling to watch his friends. He can tell they’re all having fun, Darren especially - he looks exuberant while he chases Joey and hurtles loose-packed snowballs at him. 

Darren skates over to check on him once or twice, and then lets Chris shoo him back off onto the ice with a promise that he’s fine just watching and playing on his phone. The third time Darren won’t take no for an answer. 

“Come on,” he says, dropping down onto the snow by Chris. “You’ve gotta be freezing. Let’s go in, I’ll make some hot chocolate and we can steal some fireside cuddle time. Or naked bed cuddle time.” 

He makes a ridiculous expression that never fails to make Chris laugh. He gets to his feet, wincing at the soreness that is just beginning to set in. “Hot chocolate and getting warm does sound good,” he admits. 

“Hot chocolate for my cutie, coming right up.” Darren gives him a chilly kiss on the cheek, hair tickling against Chris’s skin. 

They amble back toward the cabin in a loose collective of people, conversations stopping and starting. Chris no longer finds it odd when Darren gets dragged off, because just as often someone is there with a conversation that Chris can jump into if he wants. Even if there isn’t - Chris has always been comfortable in his own mind when he’s alone, and now he’s learned to be comfortable in his own mind even with other people around. 

Someone bumps into his shoulder. 

“Lighten up,” Joey says. “You look all serious.” 

“I’m not,” Chris reassures him. “I’m having fun.” 

“Good. Good, good, good.” Joey sort of bops his head along with every worse. “So, Dare-bear told me that he popped the moving in question. And, look, I just wanted to let you know - you should. I’m not being selfless, seriously, I don’t give a shit about you guys, but if you don’t do this we have to try and find someone else to help with rent, and do you know how many psychos there are in this world? Tons. Tons. I already know you’re a cool dude and you won't murder me in my sleep. You probably won’t even play top 40 hits at two in the morning, like some roommates I’ve had.” 

He jabs a not so subtle finger in Darren’s direction. 

“Do I want to live with someone that does that?” Chris wonders aloud. 

“Oh, no, I mean, he doesn't anymore,” Joey quickly says. “You practically live with us half the week anyway, so you know what he’s like. This wouldn’t be that different.”

Despite his insistence otherwise, Chris has the distinct impression that this is Joey giving his best wingman attempt. It’s almost touching. 

“I’m thinking about it,” Chris says. The urge to agree just because it’s something Darren wants is strong, but he’s not going to base a decision just on that alone. 

* 

On Saturday afternoon they pile back into their cars, bags a little less neatly packed and moods a little more subdued. Darren hands over driving duties to someone else and clambers into the back with Chris, melodramatically slumping into him as soon as they’re on the road. 

Chris can tell that he’s dying to ask, but Darren manages to hold out half an hour before he leans in and whispers. “So, did you think about it?” 

“I thought about it.” Chris moves so that his arm is more comfortable, around Darren’s shoulders. “And I think... yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Darren’s face lights up. “Really?” 

Chris glances at the front seat, but Dylan and Lauren are heatedly involved in some sort of argument of song selection. He leans in and kisses Darren, biting teasingly at his bottom lip. “As long as you were serious about ditching the bunk beds.” 

“Definitely serious,” Darren promises with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> My list of people to acknowledge continues to grow: Mav and Scott for excellent cheerleader skills, kurt-has-a-kiki for fielding my annoying questions about Michigan, and ineedtoseehim for beta reading!


End file.
